Snigs'n'Snails and Puppydog tails!
by typicalRAinbow
Summary: In which Cackle and HB take non-witch transport to a non-witch hospital to congratulate a new set of non-witch parents on their sweet little newborn non-witch, have a cup of tea and then ironically leave with a feeling that's pure magic :
1. Mummy's boy

Snigs 'n'snails and puppy dog tails: _In which basically Cackle and HB take non-witch transport to a non-witch hospital to congratulate a new set of non-witch parents on their sweet little newborn non-witch, have a cup of tea and then ironically leave with a feeling that's pure magic.  
_

**This (rather AU and OoC) baby fic is dedicated to me wee god-daughter who I haven't seen enough of recently. Or it least it will be when she's old enough for me to get her into Worst Witch. He he just kidding but she's an evil little genius so she'll fit in perfectly with us lot! **

**But its just a bit of sappy fun with a practically perfect child, a scene in the middle lovingly ripped off from - I mean, inspired by 'New Tricks' and a quote from Tracy Beaker. I know Serge and Imogen isn't an earth shatteringly awesome pair so bear with me on that one as it was a bit tricky trying to write them as a proper couple, especially as romance isn't my forte. Also I'm not sure whether I spelt Surge's name right correct me if I'm wrong on that front. **

**Jill Murphy owns everything bar St. Mungos, the National Health Service and the nursery rhyme, see below, this story was named after (Miss Bat even mentioned it in the series so it fitted rather nicely). And cheers to Aleksandra Hardbroom for helping with me brainstorming. Blunt works for me dear, just went from a different angle if that's okay with you. But shh, enough blabbering, the baby's asleep. Enjoy. **

_What are little boys made of, made of?  
What are little boys made of?  
Why, Snigs 'n' snails  
And puppy-dog tails,  
Cause that's what little boys are made of…!_

"Alright. So like, how d'ya spell that then?"

"D-ri double L then, Oh um." Amelia Cackle fumbled. "D…erm E-?"

"Dubois. D, U, B, O, I, S." Her deputy cut in, much to Amelia's relief, barking out the letters of the tricky French sounding Canadian finish to the double-barrelled name as though she'd been asked something simple like 'cat' or 'ball'. "Would you like _help_ spelling her first name as well?"

"Nah _Thanks._ I think I got it, taa_." _The receptionist scoffed, typing it in to the computer at such a speed Amelia felt even she could have completed the task faster. Constance impatiently tapped her foot a little, wanting nothing more to force the receptionist to spit her gum out into the nearest bin. The temp behind the desk was lucky Miss Hardbroom was in such a good mood otherwise there would have been a great spectacle of public humiliation. Which might have actually been a good thing, as it probably would teach the girl some manners and may have even livened up the dettol fumed waiting room for its nervous and/or bored occupants.

Eventually the pride of the NHS' data base system decided it might as well do what it's budget paid for it to do and (after a few even-though-it's-loading-I'll-double-click-anyway jerks courtesy of the receptionist,) it finally brought up the required details needed for the witches to visit their friend and colleague, along with her long awaited arrival that their student's had dubbed 'little Surgie'.

"Kay. I'm guessing you'll be wantin' the maternity ward, yeah?"

"Giving that Imogen Drill-Dubois primary came here to have her first child that shouldn't be such a great surprise." Constance sighed dramatically. If it was possible for this one sentence from the witch to cause the receptionist to become any more slack-jawed, it did. But Amelia paid neither much heed, and told the girl behind the desk that yes, they were after the maternity ward and could she possibly tell them how to get there.

"Take that corridor there, right? left at the end thu' them double doors like, then turn right an ya go up to level eight then ask at the desk there and they'll sort it out 'kay?"

"Down the Corridor, right, left, though the double doors, right then upstairs and-" Amelia repeated, more to herself.

"Nah I said left-"

"But you said-" Amelia started but Constance had already turned on her heel, leaving her elder no choice but to dash after her or be left alone in the medical maze. "Oh never mind, thank you anyway."

The receptionist looked as though she couldn't even be bothered to mutter 'Whateva' and went back to her filing. Had she seen it, Miss Hardbroom would have pointed out that the temp might have got more work done if the girl would put away the nail file. But being Constance, she was focused with the task at hand of locating the ward, looking very much like the Grim Reaper or Deaths grand-daughter, despite the small splash of colour provided the large shiny gift-bag she was carrying. It probably didn't help that she was wearing another of her many black dresses and a travelling cloak, the dark material billowing out behind her like a storm cloud, while Miss Cackle had bundled up hers under her arm, hoping she didn't put it down some where and loose it. Not being one to abandon magical traditions, Constance would have probably insisted on wearing her witches hat as well, had the typical 'gale force-winds-garenteed-to-give-you-that-windswept-look-the-one-time-you-want-to-apper-at-your-best' British weather not made it impossible to wear any form of head gear on the journey.

Amelia was having slight trouble keeping up with Constance, who was determined to waste no time striding down the corridor at almost twice her usual speed, almost leaving her elder behind. Thankfully although the hospital was a busy place she wasn't having to push past or negotiate the buzzing corridor. Much like at the academy, Constance had an aura, a natural talent of parting crowds like the red sea, as always allowing the headmistress a calm current to sail though. The taller witch's presence alone was seemed enough to send other hospital visitors, patients, nurses, and cleaners scuttling this way and that, even making a pair of large porters with armfuls of tattoos shrink away to let them though. But the lack barging and scrums didn't mean Amelia wasn't having to pause here and there to catch her breath.

Stopping again and actually thinking about it, there was something about her deputy today. Constance seemed even more keyed up then usual. Rather reasonable really, anticipation was contagious. Amelia too had butterflies and was excited at the prospect of meeting the newborn. But try as she might, She couldn't imagine Constance being to keen on being surrounded with the modern non-witch technological approach to healing and had been pleasantly surprised the younger witch had agreed to occupy her on the trip, despite knowing due to the proximity of the local hospital to the nearby airfield and 'fly-over' they'd have to make their journey partly via public transport, though HB had defended her decision all the way on the number seventeen double-decker, ("It would be heartless not to go. Just because some ridiculous fool decided it'd be a good idea to fling jets and gliders about in the way hardly a valid excuse to be rude.") Or maybe she just doesn't like hospitals full stop, Amelia sighed. Again it was perfectly understandable. Miss Cackle herself wasn't keen on them. Even Saint Mungos didn't agree with her, and you read all sorts of things in the news about hospitals what with cuts and nasty 'bugs'.

Still, at least they where here on a happy occasion…

And thankfully Miss Hardbroom had the sense to follow the brightly coloured signs rather then the receptionist's directions. Constance now was waiting patiently (Well, as patiently as HB could!) at the double doors, and held it open for the headmistress.

"Shall we?" came the rhetorical question as they approached the foot of stairs.

"I've a better idea, actually." Amelia smiled, reliving Constance of the presents and carried on past her, to where a row of lifts stood and called one down with a touch of a button rather then a wave of magic. Her deputy glared at it, appalled.

"It was bad enough coming part way by bus-" she started.

"It's either the lift or the stairs, Constance." Amelia interrupted as the doors opened. "You might be able to come and go as you please, but I'd rather not climb up that many floors. If you want I'll meet you up there. "

"But Miss Cackle! -"

But Miss Cackle had already stepped inside, leaving Constance fuming silently in the hallway. Amelia merely chuckled and held the doors open a little while longer with another button looking up at her deputy over the top of her glasses until Constance grudgingly got into the lift, glancing about warily about the steel box closed and they set off once more.

"You know," Amelia suddenly said for what must have been the hundredth time (and Amelia swore she saw smirk flickering at the corners of the younger woman's mouth for a brief moment, having guessed what she was going to say.) "I still can't believe it…"

Truth be told, it still hadn't settled in yet for either of them. It'd been seven, nearly eight years since Imogen had started working at Cackles Academy and a few months since she'd left on maternity leave, yet oddly it seemed the other way round. In fact, to Constance it only felt like yesterday she'd accompanied the then-gym mistress and the now almost twenty-year old girls on that somewhat disastrous camping trip where they'd been introduced to Surge Dubois, Imogen's very own Canadian price charming, purely by a twist of fate and failure on the cabin owners behalf.

Her thoughts where interrupted the headmistress, ratching though the bag making sure the bouquet of pretty flowers hadn't been crushed amongst the other gifts. Constance rolled her eyes as Amelia rearranged her packing then examining the little bear that been the bane of the journey making sure it wasn't damp or stained. Trying to keep Teddy safe and secure inside the decorative bag during typical-doesn't-stop-tipping-it-down-till-your-at-your-destination British weather wasn't an easy task, weather on a bus or a broomstick. Partially when the bear seemed determined to make a bid for freedom having spent quite a while in Miss Cackle office for storage and had to be rescued at least twice.

"Do you think they'll like it?"

"It's a teddy." Constance stated plainly. "What's not to like?"

"But it's yellow."

"And?"

"Well it's not quite the right colour is it?" Amelia sighed suddenly rather unsure about the gift. "I mean, pink for a girl, blue for a boy and white's unisex-"

"As is yellow, I believe."

"Yes but whites traditional and is meant to bring good luck. Yellow just looks like we didn't bother to check first-"

"We didn't need to, they called to let us know remember?" her deputy countered. "And after all it's not like it was picked out at the last minute."

"But-"

"Yellow is fine, Amelia, I doubt at that age any child will have a preferred colour choice." Constance reassured her as the lift came to a halt at the designated floor.  
"Besides, Imogen will just be happy to see you, never mind the bear. In fact it'll probably be a welcome relief from all the blue proclamations of 'congratulations it's a boy' they've probably been swamped in…"

**Suffice to say me dears, that temp on the deck was indeed temporally… **


	2. Saying hello to little one

_**Love and cookies to yonder fair ladies NCD, HB's Favourite, Saphique and Constance Braveheart for the reviews. Much appreciated. **_

_**I'll be honest here, I don't know much about babies. I did research of 'course before I started this, but as always, correct me if you find anything iffy. The matron is based on a midwife I knew. Brilliant woman. She could remember past and present who was on her books, due dates and what they were expecting, off by heart. If I had one on at this present moment in time, I'd take my hat off to her. **_

_**Rant ahead: feel free to skip straight to the story.**_

_**(But dammit this is hard. I can't get Surge and Imogen to gel in my mind. Maybe cause you don't actually see much of it in the series bar the great outdoors. Perhaps it would have been better I'd tried to have made it Millie/Ben or Hobbs instead. :P Oh well, it's done now if more then a pinch OoC.)**_

_**Enjoys **_

"Caution." a female sounding robot informed them. "Doors now opening."

"Why do they feel the need to say that?" Constance asked glaring up at the ceiling for the speakers hiding spot as the door's indeed opened.

"Health and safety?" Amelia shrugged. Pointless technology seemed a bit odd to her as well. "You know what the non-witch governments like nowadays. Mind you with all these funny cost cuts their making it's a wonder why they bother…"

Stepping out into the hall, both witches (well, mainly the headmistress) braced them selves for another jumbled current of too-ing and fro-ing they'd have to cross, and were quite surprised to find they could happily take a short walk following the well marked, almost empty corridors to the welcome desk they'd been told to report to. In fact, according to the badge pinned onto the woman's large bust, it was Matron herself behind it when they arrived.

"Reception must be rushed of their feet again," Mumbled one of the other nurses scuttling in the background. "They didn't mention anyone coming up."

But her senior seemed to know better and waved her off, curiously surveying the chalk and cheese-cake pair as they approached. Matron was a woman who exuded that rare uncanny vibe, only usually possessed by nannies, hotel workers and three species of chimp, which was somehow warm and wary at the same time but still greeted them with a welcoming smile.

"Good afternoon. You've come to visit one of our patients I take it?"

"Yes thank you." Amelia agreed, with a discreet 'look' at Constance hoping her deputy wouldn't attempt to floor the woman with another of her clever replies. One annoyed NHS employee was enough for one day in the headmistress' view.

"Surname-"

"Cackle."

"Of the family you're visiting." The Matron finished with a kind hearted 'don't worry, it happens all the time' smile.

"Oh."

"Drill-Dubois." Miss Hardbroom smirked back; giving the air she never ever-ever-ever made such silly mistakes. "We're friends of the mother."

Matron nodded and gave with out the need to even look them up on the computer as the receptionist had relied on, effortlessly directed them to the unit they'd find the family, along with the information that visiting hours would end at six-thirty and that despite earlier worries, both mother and baby were doing fine.

There was merely matter of filling in the visitors book, (that showed, much to their amusement, a certain Surge Drill-Dub, father, had not only arrived almost two hours ago and hadn't yet left, but also in his hurry had run out of space to write his name,) thanking the matron and then they were on their way again.

"Now that was certainly more remarkable then the shoddy welcoming efforts being made downstairs." Constance commented.

"Very well spoken I must say." Amelia agreed, a little embarrassed by her daft slip of the tongue. "Not often you come across such a skill. Well present company excluded of course."

Still, it was reassuring to know and see that all the mothers, not just Imogen, were in safe hands with such a professional yet caring nurse in charge of the quarter.

Unlike the reception and corridors they'd come though, The new-arrivals ward seemed a lot brighter more welcoming place, possibly deliberately having acquired the crisp curtains and a not to distant lick of paint from a long overdue revamp but dismissed the squashed modern décor and hullabaloo of downstairs. It was also surprising peaceful, so much so that despite their being no magic in the air Constance's first thought was that a calming spell had been placed as any cries they heard were soothed and calmed quickly and quietly. The place was divided up into units , some with the curtains or doors shut, some flung wide open, others a bit of both but Each with a white board placard covered with dates, weights, doctors opinions and other medical jargon under the family names and sex of the child.

They passed the Dales with 'Patrick (male)'; Harts and their new (female) daughter Miranda, a Rogers: mother of Twins, Autumn &Summer (females), and the Elmont family and baby Adam (male)…

"I'm not overly keen on these modern names."

"Hang on- oh never mind."

- And many others before they found who they where after. Oddly, probably because she had her glasses on her nose rather then on the top of her head for once, Amelia spotted it first and even though they weren't talking gave she gave Constance a wink and put a finger to her smiling lips before beckoning the other witch forward to follow her. This would have been more quietly executed and less ridiculous looking, Constance observed, if Amelia hadn't had her cloak tucked under one elbow and the bag of goodies swinging at the other. But still she complied, and oh so slowly approaching the semi closed curtains that housed 'Drill-Dubious, Imogen (mother)' with baby 'Unnamed ( male)'.

"-Such a little fighter." they heard the Canadian laugh, Unaware of the witches creeping up on them. "I think one day you're going to grow up to be daddy's special ice-hockey star."

"Rubbish I can see the England shirts now," his wife laughed also addressing her newborn and also oblivious to the jubilant pair now peeking though the curtains. "With the amount kicking going on inside of me, I reckon your going to be a world class footballer."

Imogen looked tired yet positively glowing in the pink pyjama's (probably the most girlish thing they'd ever seen her wear bar her wedding dress and Amelia guessed Constance had already made a mental note to tease her about it later!) and sat curled up on the bed, snuggled up to Serge, both grinning like goons and gazing lovingly, almost in awe, at bundle of joy in his arms, obscured from the witches by the blankets, completely innocent of being spied upon them, until Amelia let out a chuckle, making them both jump.

"Hello you two!" she smiled "well, three. I Hope we're not interrupting?"

"Miss Cackle!" Imogen exclaimed and, despite her obvious tiredness, quickly clambering off the bed to embrace the older woman, "No, no of course not-!"

"Old habits Imogen." the headmistress wheezed, unsure her self whether she meant the surname and formal address or the crushing bear hug.

"Oh! Sorry Amelia." Imogen blushed, releasing her. "It's just so great to see you again. And you Constance." she beamed, Giving the brunettes shoulder a squeeze in a friendly and kind gesture that would have once upon a time given at full strength probably left a fair bruise the woman's shoulder.

"Likewise." Miss Hardbroom replied, greeting the now standing Surge with a good afternoon before returning her attention back to Imogen, who'd stood back to let the witches draw closer in. "I must say you have been missed. It's been rather quiet at the academy with out you-"

"Cackles, quiet?" the gym teacher laughed. "I don't believe that for a minute. There's always something going on-"

"Normally something that shouldn't be." Surge chucked, while Imogen sat back onto the bed and scooting back to get comfortable.

"Let me go fetch you ladies some seats." He smiled, gently passing baby to mother with natural ease. "Would you want a drink or something to eat? The machines here are pretty awful but there's a little shop by reception do takeaway coffees and hot drinks."

"Oh no, don't trouble yourself Surge." Amelia smiled. "I'm sure we can sort ourselves out, can't we Constance?"

Constance obliged, literally drawing up two identical hospital chairs from thin air (one either side of the bed) and then also managed to conjure up a jug of water, four glasses and a vase to put the flowers in, all somehow with out any one else in the ward noticing, before Imogen and Amelia burst out laughing at Surges shocked expression. Constance on the other hand seemed less amused.

"Close you mouth please." she sniffed as Surge examined the water in a gob smacked manner. "There's no need sit there gawping at it, its just water." Surge did so, blushing guiltily like a school boy, probably made worse by the giggling school girl sat next to him.

"You know, Imogen." Amelia reminded her. "If my memory serves me correctly your reaction to magic was just as bad."

"Personally I thought that was just a reaction to young Fennella and Griselda -"

"Hey!" Imogen replied with smile. "Well, alright that might be true, Constance but he's known you for how long now? Not to mention the 'silent running' and disappearing stuff-"

"Alright, alright ladies." Surge grinned, obvious cottoning on to the fact he'd never live it down if this continued. "Pity you can't make the diapers disappear, Constance. That really would be magic."

This set them off laughing again, Imogen absent-mindly placing one hand on top the little ones own while Constance acknowledged the 'observational humour' with a roll of the eyes and mental count to three, doing her best to be courteous. The witch hoped it wouldn't turn into one of those convosaytions that started at nappies; and ended up on a theory of solving world peace with nothing more then a Charlie Chaplin film, lollypops and a penny farthing…

True given the fact Davina Bat was now retired and living in Inner-Outer Mongolia, the topics might not get that out of hand but one could never tell where a chat would lead.

thankfully though every ones full attention was suddenly grabbed by 'Little Surgie', who grabbed Imogen's finger and gurgled almost as if to say, "Oi aren't you forgetting something, you know, the Real reason your all here?"

"Oh sorry sweetie, were we ignoring you? Did you want to say hello too?" the blonde cooed, ignoring her partner trying not to laugh at the baby talk.

"Would you like to hold the little mite, Amelia?"

"May I?"

"Of coarse," Imogen beamed looking up and careful handed over the six and a half pounds of newborn to the elder witch who gleefully held the baby in an all most expert way as she had done when meeting various little nieces for the first time, and Parted the blankets a little more to revel the sweet pudgy features and short tufty covering of dark hair, (identical to Dubious colouring but naturally spiking and curled in a way that was distinctly the Drill genetics in amongst the rest, right down to the one lock of hair that already flicked out in the other direction.) Constance craned her neck to get a better look While Surge dug out a camera from his rucksack, proudly recording another moment when another person had held his very new and very special, pride and joy.

"Hello little one." Amelia cooed at the not even yet two-week old baby. "Oh now aren't you just delightful?"

Clad in a slightly to big blue baby grow emblazoned with green dinosaurs, it would have been hard to any one to disagree with Amelia's statement, partially as the little mite's face scrunched up and let out adorable yawn.

"Have you chosen a name yet?" Amelia asked tearing her eyes away from the babe. Imogen bit her lip and Surge suddenly found the wrist strap on his camera very interesting, looking much like a pair explaining why they hadn't done their homework.

"Well…"

"Sort of..."

"Sort of?" came the wry remark curtsey of Miss Hardbroom. "How can you have 'sort of' decided on a name?"

"Well, we have one in mind. But not officially yet."

"You'll have to make it official soon." Amelia chuckled. "before 'Little Surgie' sticks for good."

"Oh I hope not." Imogen sighed reaching over to stroke 'lickie Surgie's hair. "It's bad enough it stuck over the months. Your right of course But we'd hoped to name the little tyke after a family friend."

"Oh? So then why-"

"we'd like their grace first before we start telling everyone but no word as yet, so until then," Surge shrugged gesturing to the placard above the bed, identical to the one on the curtain, "'Unnamed' it is."

It seemed reasonable enough but Constance had her doubts about the fool proof plan.

"What if they don't approve? Or worse not allow it?" Imogen paused amount unsure of how to answer.

"Well I suppose if worse comes to the worse we did discuss a few others-"

"Easy we initiate plan B," Surge interrupted pulling a note book out of his day bag and holding it a loft. "And go to the list!"

"We have a list?" Imogen asked.

"We have a list," Surge grinned, then took in his wife's expression and lowered his arms. "Well, I do. Did. It was just a sort of a spur of the moment thing, you know. While I was um outside in the family room. I'd forgotten about it but I found it in my rucksack this morning."

"Go on then let's hear them," Amelia smiled kindly. Surge however had suddenly gone all shy.

"Come on, Superman what's the hold up?"

"We're all ears Surge."

"Obviously well I was thinking like Constance said, and I was just writing what ever came in too my head-" he babbled. "It's sort of random and we could always change the spelling, and I did write them last week so there a bit um-"

"Surge?" said Imogen in a rather serious tone. "What have you wrote…"

"Well," he swallowed and now rather embarrassed at being under the three women's scrutiny started reading out his list. "George, Daniel, Alexander, Junior -"

"No way." Imogen snorted. "I'm not naming our tiny little baby George-."

"Cameron, David, Nick,"

"Didn't really think those though did you?" Amelia interrupted with a grin.

"Mark, Declan, Antony, Samuel, Jack, Michael, john, Peter -"

"Smee? Hook? Pan?" Constance put in as he continued and the little daring in other witch's arms seemingly agreed with her letting out another cheeky little gurgle.

"They seemed better at the time." Surge blushed. "So I take it Junior is also out as well."

"Little Surgie's bad enough." Imogen groaned. "Let me have a look…oh pookie, your daddy is very silly…"

"hey Be fair were they were just the fist ones I could think of-" Surge complained trying once again defenceless from his wife's laughter as she held the papers up for Amelia to see who chucked and shook her head.

"Are they all like this?" Amelia asked.

"Some of them are alright aren't they?"

"Surge, I love you very much but…" Imogen giggled passing the book over to Constance. Her eye's quickly scanned the pages, eyebrow arched precision point.

"Apparently," she smirked. "That's a resounding no to plan B."

_**I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine. He shall be my Squishy :D **_


	3. Prenatal depression Bonus bit, part 1

Bonus bit part one: "Pre-natal depression: Can YOU cope with your baby? "

**Somewhere previously on the plot timeline… lol you know when you writing and something pops up that isn't quite with your plot line but still linked? Well this is one of them. Yay bonuses. Though ruddy things longer then most of the story put together grr. Not quite as light as the other chapters and again a little OoC but just a bit of background, feel free to kick me if you spot something wrong. No Surge this time either, Miss Crotchet got a cameo instead (Sorry Davina fans but Bat would have made it a bit too well Batty. Which normally is a good thing but I couldn't get it to work this time). **

**I don't own any thing and the title comes from one of **_**them **_**stupid articles in one of **_**them **_**trashy women's magazines. (Honestly as if people weren't worried enough as it is.) Enjoy...I hope. Oh dear I think I might have put a few frowns on faces there. We need a sing song! Altogether now to the tune of the late wacko jacko- Cos this is fill-eeerrr! Filler writes! **

"Constance I know she asked us not to make a fuss but you must understand it is a matter of-"

"Some delicacy, I know, I know." Miss Hardbroom grumbled. "And if you recall, headmistress, I neither started nor finished it. For a change. She did. then stormed out…And just because my attempts to calm her outburst fuelled it even more doesn't mean I don't know how to treat a woman in such condition!"

"I'm sure you didn't mean to upset her-"

"as if I would-!"

"But bear in mind," Miss Cackle continued as Constance finally stopped pacing about and sat down in her usual seat, having probably now worn out the carpet. "Imogen is under a great deal of stress at the moment. Just perhaps we could be a bit more careful…?"

"It'll be hormones mostly." Lavinia Crotchet shrugged reshuffling her tarot deck. "She'll come around. Personally I think Imogen's doing marvelous considering. And it's probably done her good to let off a bit of steam. But maybe we should do something to feel a little better."

Constance turned in her seat and glared at her.

"This from the woman who keeps messing with superstitious rubbish..."

"Oh, I really don't know what you mean Constance," Lavinia squeaked, cowering back in armchair under the look. "What have my cards got to do with it-?"

"You know jolly well what. You pulled out card with a grinning skeleton proclaiming death! How may I ask was that meant to make her feel better?"

"Actually it's a very good card. Despite its appearance its means a blessing in disguise-"

"Oh and that of course is what every first time mother-to-be wants to hear." Constance said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "I suppose the one with several bloodied swords on it was just a bonus?"

"Eight actually, a seven would have been very bad luck-" Lavinia corrected, thus subjecting her to another withering look. "But they've normally been accurate-"

"Hardly accurate when you've apparently gotten the child's gender wrong is it?"

"Well it's a fifty-fifty chance. Maybe the machine defective-"

"Not as much as you senses-" the potions mistress started but Amelia cut in with a chuckle.

"My, My. I wouldn't have thought you'd have put faith in a machine over magic, Constance." she said with eyebrows raised

"I didn't say I did." Constance sniffed, turning her attention back to Miss Crotchet. "Pardon me for being skeptical but I just have more faith in the technological device non-witches have developed over the years then some bits of paper that are as magical as a used teabag."

"Actually Constance, I think you'll find Card reading has been about for centuries." Lavinia grinned brightly. "And as for tea leaves -"

Miss Hardbroom however, having already held back from snapping at one usual sparing partner, was not in the mood to be informed about the merits of the inner gibberish, especially as the chanting teacher hadn't bothered to rise or even see the perfectly formed, thinly veiled insult in her last comment.

"Look, if you must second guess anyone's fortune, kindly leave Miss Drill's unsaid!" she spat. "It's cruel to mess about and either get her hopes up or frighten her…and don't do it when she's about either! You'll only make her jumpy"

"But you're allowed to pop up out of no where-"

"That's different! And I do not 'Pop up'-!"

"Ladies, please." Amelia interjected, deciding now was not the time for another argument or to point out that HB seemed to defending the gym teacher for a change. "I'm afraid I'm with Constance on this one, Lavinia, it might be wise to leave consulting your cards to when Imogen isn't around."

"As you wish Miss Cackle. Can I still use them to play solitaire?"

"By all means. But I think we can agree that we will have to be a little more careful, around Imogen. Not tiptoe around her exactly but not be overly zealous, understand? "

This was a little hypocritical to say, Miss Cackle knew, as in her mind there was only just a decade between the elder students and Imogen, and there were times Amelia found it difficult to remember, as she knew she really should, that the other teacher was a woman in her prime. But Amelia couldn't help but worry. It was bad enough giving the uncertainty of Miss Drill continuing at Cackles or ever making it to her own wedding in time but now Imogen seemed to be struggling already and they were barely into term, and she was separated once again from her fiancée causing even more distress …But the last thing they wanted to do was upset the young woman further.

"The best thing to do, as the saying goes." she sighed, more to her tea then aloud, "is to 'keep calm and carry on.' Though I doubt anyone would take it kindly if the castle is suddenly decorated with motivational posters…I had hoped Davina's flying visit last week might have raised her spirits at least."

"Perhaps if it hadn't also raised her blood pressure-"

"I know, I know. Thank you for reminding me." Amelia grumbled. "Though I think Imogen's actually more upset what we discussed on Monday," Constance looked up sharply. "I didn't mean to offend her. I'd just prefer it if she had Frank or someone helping with the equipment and supervising the rougher games…"

"It's for the good of her health isn't it?"

"and the baby's!" Miss Crotchet agreed.

"You know that, I know that and we all know Imogen knows that too. But PE is her passion just as yours is Potions, Constance and Lavinia with you music. Imagine if once of us had been told we might want to go easy on." Amelia said wearily. "Don't you think you'd have been slightly put out? I remember when I was younger I broke my wrist falling over on the hills- Or was that time because of Agatha? Anyway, I wasn't allowed to do spell casting for a week. It was terrible so I imagine Imogen to be a little more then gutted…"

The others considered this, Constance pursing her lips not willing to admit her reaction would have been similar.

"And I doubt this weather helps." Amelia continued. "All that slush and ice everywhere really brings a downer on thing, especially with it stopping anyone travelling to and from the castle. Even walking, it's dangerous. Perhaps one of us could bus Imogen out on a broom stick-"

Constance was about to point out that icy winds were tricky enough for even an experienced witch to fly in anyway let alone with a pregnant passenger but was interrupted by a quiet knock on the staffroom door...

**MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!**


	4. Greatest gifts

**So I try finishing off Love love Kiss Kiss. So obviously this chapter gets up first. Logic? Also been reworking this story (along with Here Cease and god knows how many over fandoms) for a while now, right from the start. Would it be easier just to re post the whole story..? Oh and I mean no actual offence to anyone named the names mentioned by the way. All talk not much action. Middles a bit …Well it needs a bit of tweeting. thanks to NCD for the cartoon and music references. Enjoy.**

**Fast forward back to the hospital now… Pardon the pun ;)**

For the next five minutes or so, Amelia barely looked up from the little baby in her arms, happily babbling away in a tongue that Constance (who could easily speak and read many many different modern and dead languages including basic Welsh at a push) was quite unable to understand, although the occasional brief sentence or two could just about be translated into …well human at least.

"Oh aren't you just gorgeous?"

"Defiantly gotten that from you Imogen-"

"So bonnie."

"That Baby smell-!

"Ooh look at those big beautiful eyes. "

"You're going to be a little heartbreaker aren't you, Chucky? Yes you are yes you are!" Surge grinned giving the baby an affectionate tickle. "When you're old enough you'll have to beat the admirers off with a hockey stick."

"Yes but we've been though this twice and I'm not putting Chuck or Chucky on the birth certificate." Imogen said flatly.

"Aw but Chucky's a great name isn't it Chuck chuck. Yes it is yes it is bubba, oohgah buga boo."

Surge had briefly also slipped into silly mode and had kept making silly noises to apparently entertain the baby, a few of which had earned raised eyebrows off Constance and once an elbow from his laughing wife. Having retreated to a safe distance, he was now hovering at Amelia's shoulder playing peek a boo and making the little teddy bear the witches had brought dance about, much too the baby's bemusement while the other two went back to discussing Surges twenty seven page long list of possible names trying to weed out a few that might be suitable for a baby boy.

"I guess Phillip and Tommy are nice I suppose." Imogen shrugged. "Not with Chucky though even if the Rugrats theme sort of fits."

"Hmm. But bear in mind a name's to last a life time not just up to the terrible twos. These ones here seem a bit better. Scott, John, George Alan Jeff- "

"What the-? Seriously, Virgil? Why?"

"Well that one's a little less suitable. Same goes for Brains. And Ringo Star, really… Paul John George-" Constance muttered reading down a column. "You are aware, Surge, that you've put George and John down at least three times already? Five for John actually."

"Forget the fab four-"

"The who?"

"No, the Beatles, but I'm more concerned he's put half the cast of the Simpsons down." Imogen corrected, borrowing the note book and flicking though it's pages till she found the one to illustrate her point. "Homer, Bart, Moe Barney, Apu, Waylon, Jimbo -"

"What sort of name is Jimbo?" Miss Hardbroom frowned.

"Jimbo Jones." Surge shrugged, momentarily looking up from the baby. "Sorry it was on in the waiting room."

Constance looked appalled. "Why on earth would anyone give their son such a ridiculous name?"

"Well with that Jimbo is defiantly in the worst top ten." Imogen grinned.

"What about Waylon Smithers?" her husband countered.

"top five and that's not up for discussion."

"I repeat, why on earth would anyone give their son such a ridiculous name?"

"Probably the same reason boys resort to calling themselves things like Spooky, Beanpole…Chief Ranger Danger-"

Surge pulled a face at his again grinning wifely. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Ms Imp."

Constance glanced between them, pretty certain she didn't want to know, but Imogen elaborated anyway, thankfully with a good reason.

"I helped out with the Rangers over the holidays. Do you remember the boys on camp? Simon, Benji- They seem to have an unwritten rule about using codenames and Imogen some how became Imp."

"It could gave been worse. What about Drill Sergeant?"

"Hey, I know one unit with a Badger Face! And it's far better then Pygmy owl."

"Better then great-Aunt?" Amelia joined in with smile up at Surge. Miss Hardbroom sniffed and Imogen blushed apologetically but having been on the subject of owls, Surge hooted with laughter. Laughter that was infectious.

"It was a ridiculous thing to say." Constance scowling at all three of them in turn (especially Imogen. hard to break a habit of nearly a decade), before picking on Surge. "And I still can't believe you fell for that."

"I didn't-" he protested, and sat down heavily on the protesting mattress behind Imogen which earned him a playful elbow from his wife.

"Liar." Constance jibed folding her arms with what might have been a scowl. "Now you're worse then Imogen and she's an awful fibber at the best of times."

"You turned your broom into a brolly and said you'd left it behind."

"So? You're still a bad liar."

"It's true; we can read you like a book, Imogen." Amelia smiled at the blondes pout. "Surge, be a dear my arms are going stiff. And don't sulk Constance. It got you the mattress to sleep on didn't it?"

"That's not the point-"

"Yes it was. How else was I going to explain the bonnet?"

"Either way it was daft, Imogen but I love you for it." Surge laughed, giving Imogen a kiss on the cheek as he clambered off the bed again. "Even if I did see right though the whole thing."

"Oh really?" Constance smirked. "So you saw though the 'silent running' as well then?"

"Well no…" he faltered, residing himself, he hadn't wheedled out of it as he'd hoped earlier scooping up the now gurgling bundle from the elder witches arms as asked. "Though be fair, you didn't actually admit it wasn't until Imogen admitted you witches-"

"Well what was I supposed to say?" Imogen huffed. "You'd have thought we were mad-"

"I still do-"

"Behave."

"Mr Dubious, I resent that remark-"

"Or do we represent it?" Miss Cackle pondered stretching out her wrists.

"Amelia-!"

"Don't encourage him."

"I have to put it this you know- but I reckon mummy and friends should to stop ganging up on daddy eh?" Surge cried in mock indignation, backed up by a little parp from little Surgie to which

"Yeah you tell them. Not fair being out numbered- Oopse wiff-arma! 'Scuse me ladies, think someone needs a change!"

"Do you want me to?" Imogen asked as the newborn was loaded into a baby car seat come carrier.

"Im, you relax I've got it. Play nicely while I'm gone." Surge laughed, grabbing the changing bag and headed out with Drill Dubious Jr in tow. "Come here you little monster. How'd you turn nature's nectar into that!"

They were still chatting when he returned. Well sort of. Bickering was a form of chat for women practically those three he observed as he could hear them long before he reached Imogen's bed.

"Tsk cauldron calling kettle black, Imogen."

"Kettle, Constance we're in a non-witch hospital."

"Told you."

"I know where we are thank you very much-"

"Goth."

"Sports nut."

"Ladies we're not in the staff room now-"

"She started it-"

"Didn't-"

"Everything okay?"

Miss Cackle was now some what sunk in to the chair looking rather defiendtiant in her seat. The other two tried to appear serious but took a moment to coo over the freshly sleep suited snoozing Little Surgie (who was now dressed in another slightly to big little blue and white striped ensemble).

"Should I ask what that was about?" he asked sitting on the bed as Imogen took a break to greet both 'her boys' with a kiss, a huggle and a gleeful grin.

"Technically you just did, honey."

"Nothing Surge, they're merely making an older woman feel her age." Amelia smirked and looked over her glasses at her employees. "I think I preferred it when they despised one another, least then they weren't running rings around me."

"Imogen did that already didn't she? Most of her lessons comprise of running round in circles."

"You don't bonus points for combo digs, HB."

"Well I have to give as good as I get. Imogen'd have nothing to do other wise. Oh-which reminds me. The girls somehow got a chance between procrastinating and plotting their end of term high-jinxes to make you this "Constance said, reaching in to the gift bag and retrieving the very large pretty envelope handing it to the blonde who gasped and with a thank you, ripped it open excited to see what her girls had made.

There was a loud BANG and all four adults jumped and jolted in their seats, met with the surprise of a small explosion comprised of magic a cracker and the baby themed confetti that some young witch had seemed to think would be appropriate to conceal in the envelope. After HB's dark mutterings oozing of detention for some certain young witches had been shrugged off and Amelia had soothed the fear of the worried nurses that'd come running with a story of a celebratory balloon bursting, she returned to her seat. Lil Surgie had let out a cry of surprise at the bang but other then that was pretty quiet. It didn't stop sudden panicked pair of parents fussing but once all three of the Drill Dubious clan had settled, it was only then Imogen (now sat cross legged on the bed with the baby car seat within toe tickling, forehead kissing baby spoiling distance in front of her) finally had a chance to take a look at the handmade sequin encrusted card, complete with the somehow-moving image of a stork flying on a broom stick wearing a Cackles school hat with baby bundle in its happy beak.

"Well, that's different. So cute!"

"Every ones signed it." Constance said, flicking away a bit of confetti that might have been either a paper dummy or a very awkwardly shaped gingerbread man from her sleeve, while Imogen's eyes explored the card, "Amelia and myself, all the students-"

"Mrs Cosy, The Hallows," Amelia listed. "The Blossoms, Mr Rowan-Webb, Mrs Tapioca, even the Chief Wizard. Oh and Lavina too of coarse, she'd sorry she couldn't make it and passes on best wishes."

"Sybil and her friends made the card then got every one to sign it at graduation. Mildred did the illustration weeks ago with a little help from Miss Lamplighter-"

"Hey you hear that Imogen?" Surge laughed. "That's the collage fund sorted then."

"And your DOBS girls also brought you the chocolates." Constance concluded gesturing to the bag again, Amelia glad she'd decided not mention the argument that had erupted between the Dangerous old book society and the Cauldron-ites when the first box the gang had brought had mysteriously vanished. As I said, Imogen, you have indeed been missed."

"And I've missed everyone." Imogen all but murmured before looking up with a small smile. "I hear they still threw quite a party."

"If all that squealing down that phone was anything to go by." Surge grinned.

"We hadn't got to the party when you called, we were still in assembly." Constance sniffed. "But you're right, it was deafening. And that was on top of the school choir I might add."

"Not the third year's music choice then," Surge grinned.

"You call that rubbish music? I'm surprised you weren't deadened by that noise, Imogen, the number of times you allowed to play it in their den- Imogen?"

But Imogen again had become quiet and tense, tracing her finger over the colourful signatures and well wishes of the card in her lap including one stating 'Congratulations, it's a baby', blue ink that underlined it beginning to bleed and smudge with the tear that landed on it.

"Immy? Hey honey, what's wrong?"

"Oh dear, whatever's the matter?" Amelia asked.

"I didn't mean to upset you." Constance agreed feebly.

"no it's not that- I'm fine- it's nothing really." she hiccupped, swiping at rest of the tears threatening to fall.

"A funny looking nothing." Constance quickly passed her a (black) lace handkerchief as Surge wrapped an arm around Imogen's shoulders in a reassuring hug.

"Thanks. Oh bother look everyone made us a wonderful card and here's me crying all over it like a right idiot. Sorry, I just can't believe I missed the graduation that's all. Bad enough I practically missed their final year but I'd promised Mildred to help her with the head girl speech and I didn't get to see them off. I wish I could have been there. If it was anything like the designs-"

"Not quite as elaborate," Constance cut in.

"Besides you couldn't leave this little one waiting. Don't worry, we made sure they'll keep in touch and they took plenty of photos for you. Ruby is as handy as Surge with a camera, remember? " Amelia reassured her, giving her hand a squeeze.

Imogen nodded and dried her eyes giving them all a grateful look, mumbling an embarrassed thank you as she set the card on the bedside table.

"Has Davina written to you recently?" Miss Cackle asked changing the subject. Despite living in the back of beyond, the ex-chanting teacher had determinedly kept in touch since Imogen had told them she'd been expecting.

"Oh lots. She sends letters and postcards all the time." Imogen brightened before her smile became somewhat of a grimace. "Along with baby clothes..."

Coincidently or just at the mere mention of three legged romper suits and giant bobble hats,

Little Surgie began to whimper and gristle in the baby carrier, little arms and legs kicking up a fuss.

"Oh there there sweetheart," Surge grinned and Imogen lifted the little one up and wrapped the baby back up in the blanket, her husband helping and stoking their child's hair. Little Surgie wriggled even more before Surge took to walking about the bed with the baby.

"There there who's making silly noises over knitted mutant cuddly toys the then?"

Little Surgie answered with a wail making them all jump (again). Amelia and Constance discreetly exchanged glances hoping 'Father knows best' come into play. Surge gently attempted bobbing and rocking technie. This didn't make any difference. If anything it grew loader and Surge winched, accepting defeat.

"Alright, alright shall I hand you back to mommy?" he sniggered taking a seat back on the bed and passing the child into the blondes outstretched arms. "Little blighters certainly got your lungs."

"Cheek. And watch your language." Imogen scoffed cuddling her child close to her chest, right above her heart. "Shh, it's okay sunshine. Whose mummy and daddy's special little star then? There there My little maple leaf it's okay…. "

Almost instantly the bawling stopped, turning into content mews but just to make sure the young mother to began to softy hum a little bit of the tune, pressing a kiss to calming little Surgie who snuggled into the embrace, perfectly comfortable in mummy's arms, thank you very much all the same daddy. It seemed like it was now Surge's turn to start tearing up as he again dug around for his camera. He looked as though he was about start crying. Or just melt into a puddle but he laughed it off snapping some pictures of his wife and newborn.

Little one quiet and sweet. Soul mate safe and positively glowing. Amelia too in the back ground, dabbed at her eyes under her glasses, cooing over the like a surrogate Granma.

It was a beautiful moment…Constance tried very hard not to cringe.


End file.
